Pandora's box
by mInUtE2mArs
Summary: Percy Jackson's time is over, now it's time for a new generation of heroes. Meredith Williamson's life is surprisingly normal; happy mother, great step-dad and step-brothers, jokester of the school and they all know her name. But when she discovers she's destined to save the world from the spirits of Evil, two primordial beings and an unknown rival, things just may not go her way.
1. Chapter One - The Satanic Three Strike

CHAPTER ONE

The pen was not worth stealing, most certainly, and completely, not worth it.

This is my one and only thought process as I knock on the door to the Detention room, after school on the last day of term. Ms. Robinson's croaky voice calls through the door for me to enter, so I do.

The room is cleared out apart from two desks, the others all stacked neatly to the side with rows of stacked chairs in front of them. A single, small oak desk with a plastic chair sat in the middle of the room, I am the only one stupid enough to get detention on the last day of term anyways. The large, pine desk that Ms. Robinson currently occupied sat at the front, in front of a large blackboard.

I shuffled in and dropped my bag on the floor. Dropping myself into the small plastic chair, I blew my dyed-turquoise fringe back to the correct side of my face and stared up at Ms. Robinson, this was a routine for us. I would get in trouble for one thing or another and would always end up here. I don't think I've had a Friday walk home with my brothers since I was in pre-school and they couldn't give you detentions.

Ms. Robinson is a thin old lady with a hunchback and grey hair that was pulled back into a bun so tight that it stretched her face so it almost looked wrinkle free, almost being the operative word in that sentence. Her neon red dress was printed with – also neon – green flowers that made her look like a walking 'hazard' sign, she's the teacher in charge of my year's detentions, so – thanks to me – she has to stay late _every day._

She shuffled her way over to me in neon red heels and slammed down sheet after sheet of – what I would assume – were tests that needed marking. Then finally she drops a four page, stapled together sheet of paper that has markings of red pen all over.

I grimace and glance up at the old woman who just gives me a wicked grin before returning back to her desk to retrieve something else for me. Usually I just get in trouble for 'being too loud', or 'not paying attention'. I'm not usually caught for the stuff I take, so as the ADHD dyslexic I am known to be, this is my punishment _for getting caught._

Ms. Robinson knows I take all the things I do, but she usually lets me off, I don't know why, she just shuffles away in her 5 inch heels muttering about the timelines not being right or that the knots were almost complete. She's a bit crazy like that.

I reach into my pocket to find a pen to begin my marking when the scratchy voice cut through my thought process.

"Ah ah ah, dearie! You won't need that! Since you seem to enjoy my pens so much, I thought you should _borrow_ one!" The wicked grin pulls at her face once more, making her look like an evil; human ventriloquist dummy.

I sigh as she hobbles over to me once more and drops a simple, black pen onto the desk in front of me.

I sigh as I pick it up and begin to mark. The only sounds that fill the room are Ms. Robinson's heavy breathing, my constant shuffling from ADHD and my pen scratching the paper. It takes me about three times as long as it would another, my dyslexia making the numbers go everywhere. The good thing is its only maths I'm marking, that has a straight answer that doesn't take long to decipher, if it was English, or Latin that the She-devil gave me, we would both be here till doomsday.

I have almost finished my pile, but a dry laugh snaps me out of my daze. I glance up at the old hag to see her simply staring at me, she had no work, not even a pen; nothing – she just keeps staring at me. I shuffle uncomfortably and pick up my pen again, attempting to continue when her dreary laugh cut me off once more.

"You know, Miss Williamson, I do believe that you have done more of my marking this year than I have, which is quite a shame really, considering I'm not even a real teacher." My eyebrows furrow in confusion at her statement. I pick up the pile of marked tests and dropped them into a scruffy pile on the large desk.

"You've been here before, you know how this works." She waves her hand towards the clipboard aimlessly as she begins to check through my pile of marking.

I signed my name on the clipboard for today's date, under all the other signing of my names from my detentions on earlier dates. All just read two very simple words. Meredith Williamson. My name fills up every blank spot on this paper, and I bet you the other pages up to about September 2007, when I first joined the hell-hole that is 'Farworth School for Troubled Youngsters'.

I throw open the door into the empty hallway and begin to sprint down, but just as I reach the stairs my memory gets the better of me and I remember that my bag is still in the classroom with She-devil. I wouldn't care, but mum would probably kill me because that would make the third bag I've lost in a year.

I sigh and take one last glance at the doors at the bottom of the stairs. With one last outing of breathe, I turn and wander to the room I was sat in only moments ago, but ,me being me, I make some mischief on the way, taking board pens from the Principal's office. I drew all over the walls on the way. Not my best work, but I didn't have time to prepare much else.

Finding the door labelled 'DETENTION AREA' in that stupid Comic sans font that fills the hallways of this school. Of course, I don't have enough patience to stand and attempt to read it, but I can recognize the annoying shapes of letter anywhere I go.

Tugging on the door, I soon realise its locked. Sighing I rake my hand through my hair, desperately wishing the door to be unlocked; I can't handle mum's super-annoyed face. I've been in detention so many days after school I think mum believes that this is the normal ending time for school.

I sigh, knowing I'll have to use my _special_ skill. I have been doing this for as long as I can remember. Putting my hand on the keyhole, I focus on an image of the tumblers, o them unlocking. And as I focus on the last tumbler, I hear a soft click, letting me know that it worked.

Shrugging off my superpower, I open the door to see Ms. Robinson and two other ladies that look exactly like her, all just sitting and knitting. They all look at me, and grin an awful smile.

I slowly skirt around them, keeping my back to the wall to be as far away as possible.

Grabbing my neon green bag, I followed my path to get there while sliding my bag onto my back, its only neon green because mum said I wouldn't lose it anywhere then, or accidentally take someone else's, but she knows I take others' on purpose.

I always steal things really. Mum says that it's not my fault, it's in my blood. But I've never understood why she says this, because mum's probably the most goody-two-shoes you'll ever meet, while I am more of a baddy-one-shoe? Is that a thing? Anyways, we are basically polar opposites.

Mum has perfect, straight blonde hair, while mine is a dark brown that falls into tight ringlets. Hr curtains suit her soft features, but my left side parting and dyed turquoise fringe with a single streak down the right side of my head suit my straight nose and arched eyebrows. Her tall figure at 5'8 toward over my small 5'0 and her muscly build made me seem miniscule with my small, wiry frame.

I snap back to reality as the three creepy ladies look at me once more as they take out five different colours of wool.

A bright; bright yellow wool was first threaded next to black wool; creating a tight knot, they then tied together a dark red and a lighter; but kept both knots separate from one another, finally they took out silver thread, it wasn't grey like it should but it glowed in the light – like it had metal in it. They wrapped the silver thread around each of the knots tied, careful to make sure that it was tight. They tied it around the yellow and black first, then plaited it until tying the two yellow and black together once more, and then including the two red knots, before plaiting the three together.

They grin, showing me their creation. Despite the colours and the shapes, I feel drawn to it. I hesitantly walk forwards and reach out for it, but just as I am about to touch it, they snip it off – right where my fingers were. I squeak in shock as they violently grab my left wrist and tie the creation around it. They all stare at me; like I'm the last slice of pizza in the dorm room of broke University students.

I jerk my hand back, attempting to get free, but their vice grip holds me in place. They each place one hand on top of each other's and murmur some words, I think it is another language, but I still know exactly what they said.

"Fate binds us? What on earth does that mean?" I question the crazy ladies. They all glance back up at me, as if hearing my British accented voice reminds them I'm here, even though they are vice-gripping my wrist.

They keep a hold on my wrist, but now I begin to feel something, something _awful._ I scream in agony as my hand begins to feel as if it's on fire, starting from the bottom of my wrist on my underarm and then it wraps around the front of my wrist; spreading through my hands to the bases of my fingers, the back of my hand is worse; like a thousand fire-ants have crawled under my skin.

Then, as quickly as it started, it finished. My hand felt normal; no not normal, it felt better, like it had power running through the veins. But _only_ my hand.

They don't answer me, just smile menacingly at me. I begin to back away, shaking my hand out of their grip.

"It's time to take her to camp, protector. Her destiny has begun." My eyebrows furrow as I think of their words. Protector? That can't be me? What do _I_ protect? The legacy of thieves and pranking? But as I hear a sharp intake of breathe behind me, I know for a fact that it _wasn't_ me they were talking to.

I turn just in time to see Kai Eisentsteen, the triplet's best friend, staring at me. He always walks me home, I don't know why. He has become a sort of fourth brother to me. When I turn his face is worried, but as soon as he sees my confused eyes, his face softens.

"Mer, we gotta go." His thick New York accent rips through the silence.

"But what abou-"I'm cut off as he gestures to behind me. As I turn, I gasp. The classroom is completely empty, literally, all the desks, chairs, even the detention log where I have signed my name so many a time is gone. All that remains is a single note on the floor, next to my feet. I pick it up hesitantly, as if it may contain images of Ms. Robinson naked.

I turn over the note to see cursive writing scrawled across it. Groaning, I pass it to Kai, knowing he - unlike me or my brothers - is dyslexia free. Even though I am very happy it isn't Ms. Robinson and her Satanic Cult doing rituals naked or whatever.

"Opposites may attract, but beware; as the light can only bring darkness." I raise my eyebrows at this statement. Kai just shrugs, his deep brown eyes scanning over the paper once more.

"That's it, that's all it says." I just nod blindly, too confused to try anything else.

I turn once more, surveying the room. It suddenly feels too hot in here, and I go to roll up my sleeves, my hand makes contact with something else.

I roll up my sleeve to take a proper look at the bracelet that the creepy Satanic Three placed on me. There are three bracelets, each tied together only with the silver thread.

The first is two plaits, running side by side. The silver thread runs through the middle of them, connecting them all together and making it one large bracelet. The odd thing about it is that there is no knot, nowhere it was tied onto my wrist. It's too small to take on and off, but there was no other way it could be on there.

The silver thread, once it has got to where I would assume was the start; or the end, either way – the two pieces that start and end it run up my arm to the next bracelet. The same thing has happened again with this; there is no knot to ties it on, and it is too tight on my wrist to even _move._ But the design is different on this one. The five colours have plaited together, the yellow and lighter red making one part of the plait; the darker red and black making the other. Again, the silver thread runs through on its own, as if they are all connected, but the silver is supposed to be alone.

But there was another plait, one I hadn't seen them make. There were three pieces of wool, each the same shade of blue-grey; like the triplets eyes. It simply wrapped around my wrist, before connecting with the silver thread and letting it continue on its way. It also had no knot, wrapped tightly around my wrist. But the silver thread didn't run through this one, it just connected with it. This confused me; but I continued on with my search of my new and apparently irremovable jewellery.

I look up at my hand and see that there is only the silver thread making the design this time. The two pieces of silver thread rap around separate sides of the top of my hand, wrapping around the base of each finger and creating a complicated pattern on the back of my hand. It looks like a stick, with two snakes wrapping around it- but as I examine the design of it, but what made the silver design on my hand different; it was in my hand. Literally, I followed the pattern down to the larger plait and see that as the thread leaves it, it goes _into my skin,_ and then continue its design. It's connected perfectly. Like no one has ever cut it; or even _touched_ the damn thing.

The entire bracelet fills up the whole of my left forearm, with the two lines of silver thread running up the inside of my arm. There was no thread on the inside of my palm, just the base of my fingers, it was so tight around my arm and hand that I could never fit a pair of scissors in between to cut it or a knife without severely injuring myself. But as I move and turn my arm, making my hand into a fist and stretching my fingers as far apart as possible, it moves perfectly with me. Stretching and turning as if it was part of my skin.

My eyes widened with shock at the discovery. Great, now I have a new, unwanted tattoo thanks to the Satan worshippers and three bracelets I surely won't get off anytime soon.

This is probably the longest I've ever stood still and concentrated on one thing.

Kai's voice snaps me out of my next thoughts. Well, more his yells.

I am suddenly pushed back into the classroom by Kai as he pulled out a pocket watch. I look past him to see a women, she looks probably around 40, with a black crop-top on that read the word 'Booty-full' in pink, sparkly cursive. Her hot pink mini-skirt was hardly a skirt; it was more of a belt, as it barely reached the top of her thighs. It had dodgy black sewing into it and three black buttons running down the front.

I recognize her immediately as our receptionist, Penelopë **.** You pronounce it like Pen-el-oh-pay; she's very picky about that. I roll my eyes at the older boy's jumpy nature and attempt to push past him.

He holds his crutch out to stop me and holds his pocket watch by the end of its chain and begins to swing it in fast circles through the air.

I step back in order to not be hit and watch as the swinging chain wraps around his arm and turns into a quiver on his back. The watch itself turns into a bow, which Kai then spins in his hand.

I'm pretty sure my mouth is open so wide you can see down my oesophagus, but I don't care. That was the coolest thing I have ever seen.

He takes a wooden arrow and knocks it into place on the bow; it looks like it was made by himself, with a knife, a log and some vines, but it's still the coolest thing ever.

He points the bow at Penelopë, and I shriek in shock.

"Dude, what? No you ant shoot the receptionist! Why didn't you shoot Satan's ritualists?" Kai doesn't even glance at me.

"How cute, the Demi-god believes receptionist is my true calling in life! And I suppose you've had a run in with the fates?" My eyebrows furrow. Okay, so she's not really a receptionist, I can guess that, she sucks at her job. She never answers the phones and won't even photocopy anything. But her voice had changed, it was suddenly so high pitched and posh, but full of an arrogance, instead of the airhead Jersey Shore girl that 'just don't care'.

The Satan's ritualists I'm assuming are what she called 'The Fates', the things in Greek Mythology that would be all creepy and prophesize and stuff? Oh well, this is too exciting to dwell on silly little details.

And what did she call me, Demi-God?

Kai grips his bow harder and lines up his aim once more as Penelopë begins to stroll the length of the room.

"Pasiphaë." He hisses the word as if it is venom. "How was the Underworld? Did Hades enjoy having yet another Witch that dishonoured his brother around?" And yet more Ancient Greece references, I slowly back up, attempting to reach for something I could use as a weapon. I trust Kai, and if he finds this 'Pasiphaë' a danger, then she most probably is.

She lets out an airy laugh, but it isn't sweet. It's more like the type of forced laugh you do when your mother tells an awful joke but you don't want to offend her.

"Oh, it was fantastic! Thank you for your kindness satyr. But you can put those _sticks_ away." She says the word as if the metal tipped arrows are for children who want to play dress-up as Katniss Everdeen.

"I'm not here for a fight. But I did want to meet the fabled hero of this generation. So much to come from such a small mind, perhaps we should fix that, it'll help give you a little boost. " She gestures to me wildly as she speaks, but none of her words really sunk in. Until she said the last line that it.

I furrowed my eyebrows and thought over what she'd just said.

"What?" Was I could really think to say. She just rolled her eyes at me.

"Augh, you Demi-God's, never have enough patience to listen. Well, I suppose I can help with your attention skills." She waves her hand at me, and my head begins to spin.

Feeling myself fall, I grab onto the closest thing to me, which just so happens to be Kai. He holds onto me and gently lays me on the floor, he began to say something; but his voice is muffled in my ears.

I cover my ears as the noise he makes begin to get louder and clearer. My eyes flutter open and everything blurs around me. But I do see clear enough to make out the form of Pasiphaë as she strolled out of the door.

Kai's face hovered above mine and my eyes began to settle. He hovers over me, but my vision is so much more detailed. It's like watching a movie on the internet that was recorded in the cinema vs. watching the film _in_ the cinema, in 3D and Blu-Ray.

Kai's deep brown eyes were filled with concern. His tanned skin was a deep olive, matching his dark, dark brown hair. His hair was styled so the fringe was swept to his left, just above his eyebrows.

His green hoodie hid an orange shirt underneath, both were baggy; but fir him well enough to seem normal. His blue jeans were also baggy, and his black trainers were slipping off his feet.

His crutches lay, abandoned, to the side as he kneeled over me.

I could have seen all that anyways. But now, I see _everything._ It's so weird, I can see a small scar, just under his eye on his cheek bone; a small mole was next to his eyebrow. His stubble was barely noticeable; but to me it was perfectly clear. I found this odd; considering (a) I've never noticed this before, and (b) we are thirteen.

I slowly sit up, tuning out the abnormally loud sound of his voice. I look around the classroom, at dust flying everywhere and the bright sunlight streaming through the windows. It looks like someone has put a camera filter on, well, everything.

I look back over at Kai and try to listen to what he was saying, but there are just too many sounds and I can't concentrate. Black spots begin to dance around the edge of my vision and I fall back to the floor once more.

The last thing I see is Kai taking out his phone in a rather panicked manner, before I slipped into unconsciousness.

 **Hi! Thanks for reading the first chapter, sorry its a bit slow, the first couple of chapters will be! Please rate and review! and if you have any characters you want me to look at I'll be happy to! This is my first story so if you tell me any good/bad things I'm happy to listen.**

 **\- Kisses**

 **Saffea a.k.a mInUte2mArs**


	2. Chapter Two - Hell-Hounds Hate Me

CHAPTER TWO

I wake up to find myself on a soft surface, instead of the hard floor I know I collapsed on.

I slowly open my eyes, finding that my vision remains the same from when I collapsed. I sit up and ended up rolling off the sofa that I now realize was my sofa. At home.

Sounds suddenly attack my ears and I desperately claw at them, trying to get the sound to stop. In a flash, a set of hands were on my shoulders and a pair of grey-blue eyes sit in front of me.

My step-brother Kyle sits there talking to me, telling me to focus on his voice. So I did, not Mum, or Peter; my step-dad and Kyle, Palmer and Adrienne's brother. I didn't focus on anyone but Kyle.

Slowly, but surely, the rest drone into background noise.

"Mer? Mer? Hey, hey it's okay, don't worry. Look, we're at home. But we gotta go, kay sis? Pack your bags, we gotta move. Please." Kyle's American accent fill my ears and replace the drone of noise. I just nod and follow Kyle out of the room. The two others of their group of three greeted me at the door.

"Right, sis" Adrienne began, "you know that camp we go to, me, Kyle and Palmer?" I nod as me and Adrienne reach my room. I walk over to my built in wardrobe and start to reach for my bag on the top shelf, damn you shortness.

"That's where we're heading, now. Maria and dad are gonna drop us off there. You're coming too." I turn and look at him, confused at his last statement, only coming out of my confusion when my bag falls on my head.

Adrienne only laughs as he goes to start gathering my stuff. I go to grab my clothes and underwear before Adrienne cam reach them and make fun of me.

"Your camp? I thought I ' _wasn't allowed'._ " I put air quotes around it. Adrienne knows I'd asked loads of times to join them over the summer, instead of making me lonely with mum and Peter.

"You weren't ready, but now you're…umm...old enough. You can come with us every year." I know Adrienne is lying, because he is the worst liar in the world. His eyes dart around the room underneath his 'Harry Potter' specs, as I call them, and he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly; nearly knocking my snow globe of London onto the floor. He wasn't lying about me coming every year, just that I'm 'not old enough' I don't know why I couldn't really come, but if I'm coming to this mysterious camp now I'll find out soon enough.

I just ignore his statement and continue packing. It's at Long Island, so I pack any pair of shorts I own, my three pairs of jeans, pajamas, trainers, and my T-Shirts, anything and everything until my bag is full. I have clothes, toiletries, shoes, pajamas, make-up – but I don't really own much of that – my wheelie bag is full and I have to sit on it and then get Adrienne to close it.

My hand begins irritating me and I start to scratch my left one, glancing down at it I drop my case in shock.

Memories of what happened before flood my memory and I fall backwards. Adrienne catches me and sits me down as the noises start again. It's like static, on the TV, only much louder and more audible.

I try focus on one sound, tapping my foot impatiently and listen for something definitive, when one sound in particular takes my attention. It's steady; but fast, and I have to strain to hear it, but even though it was like a whisper in a crowd of people yelling I can hear it just fine.

A heartbeat, _my_ heartbeat to be exact, it's strong and fast; showing my fear and worry. But as I focus on it more and more, it grows stronger, and slows down. While the noise around me dies down too.

I slowly stand as the noise around me fades to a low hum. The sight hurts my eyes, the bright lights and strong colours but as I look around more and more, my eyes get used to them.

I stand up and shake off Adrienne muttering 'I'm fine's' and 'its okay's'. He grabs my arm as I reach for the bag and picks it up for me. I scoff, but I'm still grateful because I doubt I can concentrate on keeping this new skill in check and carry my bags while going down the stairs.

He just laughs at me as I stick my tongue out. We make it to the bottom to see everybody staring; staring, more precisely, at me.

I ducked my head embarrassed, as Mum and Peter began to pack everyone's bags in a car. I wasn't used to being on the trip to the mysterious camp; I'm usually left at home with Mum or Peter, because they took turns the past three years that the triplets have gone to camp.

We all pile into the black 7 seater. Mum in the passenger seat, with Peter driving, the triplets take up the 3 seats behind them, Palmer in the middle, Kyle on the left and Adrienne on the right. So that leaves me, in the back, with all the bags.

I get stuffed behind Kyle, so I have a clear view of the back of the tallest of the triplets' head. Sighing, I settle into my seat, knowing it will be a long ride.

There are very few ways to tell the triplets apart. Their blonde hair is all shaggy, hanging above all three's bushy eyebrows, their hair certainly had…volume, I think the word is. Their grey-blue eyes were outlined with thick lashes. High cheekbones and thin lips were on a thin face. Their builds were small, but muscly and they were all very tall.

Some of the few differences that the triplets share is; firstly their heights. Kyle is tallest; as I previously stated, he stands at around 6'3, age 16. Palmer is next; being 6'2 and Adrienne was the shortest; being a measly 5'11. But they all stand at least a head over my small 5'0 athletic frame that is far too thin and fragile. The only other differentiating factor (they taught me that word) is the glasses. They wanted to be easily known.

Adrienne has thin framed black Harry Potter glasses; perfect for the fan-girl that is my eldest brother.

Palmer had electric blue square glasses, the little nerd inside him just screamed for them. That's what I always tell him anyways. They don't even have curved edges so it looks like someone has pixelated his eyes. But he surprisingly suits them.

But Kyle doesn't have any glasses, the only triplet with 20/20 vision. I have perfect vision also, but now it's even better. Is there such a thing as, like, 40/40 vision? Because I think that's what's going on in my funny little brain.

As soon as we are out of our quiet little village on the outskirts of New York, I begin asking questions.

"So what's this camp anyway?" Kyle just looks back at me and smirks.

"Okay, fine. What's its name?" they have to at least tell me that, but still, no one replied.

"Okay fine," I huff in annoyance, and then decide to move onto a different topic. "Why do I have a creepy bracelet I can't take that is connected to my skin?" Nothing. "Why am I suddenly seeing that pimple on Adrienne's cheek?" I tease, but surprisingly he is still resilient.

I sigh, and settle back into my seat. I lift my left hand and study it carefully. There is a very thin layer covering the creepy thread connected to me. It puzzles me how I'm not freaked out by this. But I'm not, if anything, I feel _comfortable_ with it. Like before I was missing something and now I'm done - complete, like it makes me more powerful.

My brothers sit, Kyle and Adrienne just watching out the window; fidgeting every now and then. Palmer just sits in the middle, doing a Sudoku puzzle. He says he likes these better, because you don't have to read as much, but you get to think more.

Don't get me wrong, my brothers have ADHD and dyslexia, just like me, but theirs is much milder. I am already sat sideways and waving my legs in the air with my headphones on full blast. And I can't read more than an 'a' or 'I' on paper. I can read general numbers, like one digits, tens or hundreds, but the rest it takes me at least ten minutes to decipher.

It's an hour into our journey and I have already used twenty-eight of my fifty-two ways to annoy my brothers. Right now I am on the 'annoying song' as I so graciously dubbed it, number twenty-nine.

"I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves,

Everybody's nerves,

Everybody's nerves.

I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves

And this is how it goes." I'm on my eighth verse when Kyle starts yelling at me. They take it in turns, yelling at me – I mean. First it's Palmer, then Adrienne and then Kyle and then the cycle would restart.

"Five minutes, guys. And eight verses, Mer, new record!" I grin smugly at the boys, as they roll their eyes. I have a bet with Peter on my annoying tactics.

We pull up on a country road, and the questions I asked numerous amounts of times on the journey here replay in my mind, still unanswered, just as I am about to ask them again for about the bajillionth time, we pulled up at the bottom of a hill. It is tall, and has a clearing that leads straight to the top. The forest goes around the outside of the clearing and meets at the top of a hill, in a thin line. In the middle; at the top, is the largest tree of all.

There is something shining on the lowest hanging branch of the tree; but I can't make out what.

My step-brothers all quickly exit the car, Adrienne going around the back to start getting our bags, and the other two climbing out in front of me. Adrienne starts to grab the bags next to me; but makes no move to let me out. He just smirks as all the bags are out of the boot and shuts the door.

I groan and lay back, tapping on the window for Palmer; who is closest; to let me out.

Hearing my tapping, he turns and sees me still locked in the car. He opens the door and the seat Kyle previously sat in for me too exit.

Palmer can't actually talk. It's something wrong with his vocal chords; so he communicates through gestures or writing on his notepad. Our family has a special code that we all understand. Sometimes we actually use it instead of talking to each other.

I sigh and look up the hill, then back at my family with a questioning look.

"We're early this year, but I'm sure Chi…" Kyle is cut off by Palmer elbowing him and shaking his head frantically. Adrienne steps in front of his brothers and continues what they were trying to say.

"-the _camp directors_ won't mind." He shoots a look at the tallest brother and then grabbing his blue duffle bag, heading up the hill.

Palmer just grins and nods at me, picking up his grey bag and following Adrienne. Palmer and I certainly get along best in the family, even if he can't talk. But I and the triplets are all thick as thieves, as mum always says. We may be from different families, and different _continents,_ but that has never mattered to us, we are a family by choice, not by blood and in our opinion, that's much better.

Kyle just sighs, dropping his head and picks up his green duffle bag; trailing after his brothers.

I pick up my bag and was about to follow when I hear a sound in the woods. My new and improved – but not so much wanted – senses tell me something is… is _growling?_

My curiosity gets the better of me and I head towards the sound. My parents are at the top of the hill saying goodbye to the triplets. Well, Peter is my step-dad, but I've known him since I was eight and we moved to the States, we lived in England before that. Mum met Peter at the supermarket while she had me annoying her to buy something; the triplets were annoying their dad for the same thing.

They started talking and we had to stay there for an hour. The good thing was me and the triplets really bonded in that hour, and when mum told me she had a date with him and I had to stay with them all; I was _very_ happy. The triplets were eleven then; now they are sixteen and we've only gotten closer. They were all the best-men at Mum and Peter's wedding three years ago, and I was the Maid-of-honour.

I smile at the fond memories of our family as I creep towards the forest. The growling grows louder in my ears even though I'm sure that no normal person could even slightly hear it.

Mum and Peter start calling my name, but I ignore them and continue tip-toeing towards the edge of the thick wood. I can see a pair of eyes now, staring back at me, but that just makes me even _more_ curious.

The triplets start yelling as well, but I just tune them out. I am now about five feet away from the edge of the woods and the crimson eyes pierce my own.

They are intimidating; to say the least, but I don't flinch when they take a step forwards. I can now see the outline of the shape, and my left hand begins to itch, the one with the creepy thread that burned itself into my skin, like its warning me.

But still, I creep forwards, desperate to know what causes those eyes. I now stand one foot away from the edge, as does the monster. The triplets are running down the hill now, but I let them.

I slowly back-up as the unknown creature starts to move forwards again. When it appears in the light, I gasp softly. It's a dog, the size of a horse. Its fur is what I would imagine the colour of hell is. Its crimson eyes stand at about two feet above my own, its legs and half the torso the same size as I am.

I can hear the triplets almost right behind me now, and there yelling is impossible to tune out.

Kyle starts yelling for help, something about a… a hell-hound? Adrienne is pulling me behind him and holding out… _holding out a SWORD!_ My brother is holding out a sword. But it's not just him, Palmer runs forward waving one at the dog-horse hell-hound thing and Kyle has one in his grasp as he runs down the hill after yelling for help.

Palmer is hit to the side immediately, I try to get to him, but Adrienne holds me back still as Kyle sprints forward. Kyle gets some good hits in; before befalling the same fate as Palmer and then the dog-hell-hound turns its visions to us.

Adrienne whips around quickly to face me. He stares into my eyes with the most serious look I've ever seen him wear.

"Go over the hill. Get help. It doesn't matter how shocked you are; Mer. Go. Get. Help. Tell them it's an adult Hell-hound and they need to hurry. They'll know what to do." I nod and begin to run up the hill as Adrienne backs away from the hell-hound.

I am half-way up and running at my top speed when I hear my last conscious brother scream and a dull thud. I don't have to turn to know that he suffered the same fate as the rest.

Running even faster, I sprint to the top of the hill and I risk a glance back. My three brothers are all knocked out; I know they are not dead because I can see them all breathing. Thank you creepy eyesight. But the hell-hound has gone for my car; where I left my bag. But more specifically, my parent around the back of the car.

I scream a few unintelligible words; something along the lines of 'hell-hound', 'hurry' and 'parents', but I don't know whether or not I'm screaming for help or just trying to gain the attention of the hell-hound, neither of which seem to work.

I check my options, either I could run down the hill; grab one of my brothers' swords and fight the horse size beast, ending up like my brothers or worse and buying my parents time to get away. Or I could run down the hill to this… this strawberry farm that would apparently help and risk my parent being torn to shreds by the time I return.

Deciding that – surprisingly – I like the first option better, I begin to run down the hill. But I stop when I feel a fire in my hand once more. But it's not a _painful_ fire, like it was when the Satanic Three first put it in my hand - it's a strong fire; like energy is running through my hand.

I don't know what comes over me, but I just stare at my hand. Flexing it as far as I can, and the thread in my hand glows silver. I focus on the spot next to Adrienne, at least 50 yards away at the bottom of the hill and I clench my fist as I tight as I can; along with closing my eyes.

I feel the energy run from my hand to the rest of my body; then it all stops in an instant.

Opening my eyes, I see I am stood exactly where I focused on. Adrienne's sword laid just in front of me; with its owner a couple of feet behind.

Picking up the sword, I focus my energy back on my hand and the same feeling rushes through me. I think of the point, next to the car, where my bag is – just behind where the hell-hound is creeping up – and clench my fist into a tight ball.

The same energy fills me and I keep my eyes shut, kicking in front of me and find that my bag is there.

I open my eyes, grinning at my new found power and find myself facing up the hill, to see some very confused looking people wearing armor and brandishing swords just like my brothers'. They all just stare at me, dumb-founded, obviously seeing my display of power.

I just wave at them, shrug, and then turn my attention to the hell-hound. It's slowly sneaking its way around the back of the van, to where I know my parents are hiding.

I focus and hear their rapid heartbeats, terrified of what may come. Thanking anyone who will listen that I am very quiet and sneaky on my feet; I go around the opposite side of the car; but faster than the hell-hound is.

My parents see me with Adrienne's sword in my hand and look at me worriedly. I just wave them off and use our family sign language to signal for them to go around the other side of the car. Hesitating only momentarily, they silently creep past me with a silence and speed I am so proud to have taught them.

I crouch down low and see that the hell-hound is almost around to my side of the car. Holding out my sword and crouching, I get ready to strike. The only problem with my plan is that it's only half-finished. I don't know if I have to kill this thing; if it's someone's creepy pet that got loose. How should I know?

Deciding now was not the time to dwell on these facts - and that if this was someone's pet they needed a psychiatrist – I lower myself further, ready to pounce.

I listen carefully as I hear it take one more step, and a paw becomes visible around the side of the car. I can also hear the staring, armored people slowly advancing down the hill; also taking my tactics of keeping quiet.

Another step is taken by the hell-hound, and I can now see its front. It stands tall, proud; as if it knows it has already won.

Don't count your chickens before they hatch, horse-dog.

It turns the corner in one fluid motion, and is now facing me instead of my terrified parents. Whom I know are now safely behind the force of armor-clad weirdos.

The hell-hounds eyes pierce me and glare so much I feel like I am going to combust.

But its stance is still tall, legs spread apart; which was exactly what I need.

I spring forwards, using my left leg that was positioned behind me to propel myself forwards. I roll under its stomach and lay on my back.

Positioning the sword, I close my eyes and thrust it upwards. Feeling – and hearing - the sword slice through the skin, between the ribs and cut some vital arteries.

Instead of blood dripping onto my face from the arteries I know I severed. I feel dust sprinkle on my face and body. Opening my eyes, the hell-hound is missing from above me, and a gold dust is sprinkled around me. It didn't run away; I would have heard it.

I stand up; legs shaking and hobble around the side of the car to be met with at least twenty unknown faces.

My parents are half-way up the hill with the triplets; whom were now awake. They had one or two kids sat around them, but the rest were all stood with swords pointed my way and eyeing the gold dust I was covered with.

I try to get the dust out of my mouth by making weird sounds and I only end up getting it in my throat. I start having a coughing fit which amuses some of the campers. Glad my killing of horse-dog and choking on its remains can amuse people.

They still point their swords at me; until Palmer runs in front of me. He shakes his hands violently in a manner that means _No! No!_ And puts his arm around me, showing I was his friend.

Kyle and Adrienne run up next to us, and smile at the sword-wielding wackos.

"Guys! Hey, what's up! Long-time no see, anyways, please stop pointing swords at out totally harmless and totally freaked out step-sister who has _no idea_ what's going on." He waves at me firstly and then at all their swords.

My head begins to pound as all their questions come together and the reality of what just happened hits me like a brick to the face. I _teleported?_ And KILLED A HELL-HOUND! I don't actually know what a hell-hound is apart from what I just skewered.

I fall onto Palmer as my vision turns black and I hear footsteps rushing towards us.

It seems this whole teleporting and killing hell-hounds thing is especially tiring.

Oh well, I always learn the hard-way anyways.

 **So that's the second chapter! A bit more action; but there still isn't loads, sorry! Anyways, this chapter is more there to explain about the past and her family relationships. Feedback and tips or things you want are welcome! I just wanted to put up a new chapter before school starts tomorrow. *le sigh*. Anyways please review nd rate! Characters are welcome if you got any, and keep tuned for more of this adventure!**

 **Love ya xx**

 **\- Kisses, Saffea a.k.a mInUtE2mArs**


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